Review: The Iron Lady

For the first time, I took advantage of being at home in the middle of the day and went to the cinema on Wednesday. The film that inspired me to do so was one about possibly the most controversial British politician of my lifetime. Venerated, in quite a scary way, actually, by the right, loathed with a passion by the left.

She let me down, badly. When she uttered those words of St Francis of Assisi about bringing light and harmony and peace that day in May 1979, I as an 11 year old bought it. When she then proceeded to cause more division and encourage the promotion of self at the expense of social responsibility, I felt so disappointed. When she refused to take action against apartheid and other human rights abuses, I was pretty disgusted.

So, it's fair to say that there's no love lost between me and Mags to put it mildly.

I'd read that the film was more about her Dementia than her record as Prime Minister. I also knew that Thatcher is a lot more popular in the USA than she is here. I wasn't looking forward to seeing her portrayed in a sympathetic light but felt strangely compelled to see the film. I fully expected to come out of the cinema raging.

I hadn't, foolishly, taken the talents of Meryl Streep into account, though. I always knew she was versatile. I mean, anyone who can pull off the harrowing Sophie's Choice, the imperious Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada, and be a credible Donna in Mamma Mia is undoubtedly a talented actress. And now, in the same film, she plays both an inflexible, unlistening, head of Government, surrounded by men who often reluctantly do her bidding, who thinks nothing of sinking a ship that's sailing away from the theatre of war and an old lady coping with the disorientation of Dementia, living an isolated life, surrounded by women who care for her. In the flashbacks, Streep has that clarity and conviction in her eyes. In the portrayal of the older Thatcher, her eyes have confusion in them. It's incredible.

We see the very young Thatcher (played by Alexandra Roach) patronised by men as she tries to win selection  for a Tory seat. Her background as a grocer's daughter and her gender are clearly holding her back and there's a telling scene where she's sent off with the ladies after a dinner. Every woman in politics has gone through something like this at some point. For most of us it makes encouraging other women a priority. For Thatcher, it seemed to breed resentment to come out much later.

For every scene that induced anger - the Falklands, the refusal to depart from her Monetarist policies, the miners' strike, her intransigence over the poll tax, there was another immediately afterwards which made you laugh at Jim Broadbent's portrayal of Dennis, or marvel at Michael Pennington's brief but pretty much spot on scenes as Michael Foot. Streep invokes sympathy for the older Thatcher, widowed, alone and confused. Without giving too much away, there are a couple of really mawkish scenes but, blow me, was there not a tear in my eye? I really must try and toughen up a little.

Streep's portrayal of the present day Thatcher is based on assumptions and a good script, not actual fact. Even so, it feels intrusive, a bit close to the bone, to be watching something like that while she's still alive. I actually found myself agreeing with David Cameron on that point.

It was an excellent film that evoked strong emotions in me - the old anger stirred within my breast, shall we say, but I also felt sympathy for the strange and disorientating world a Dementia sufferer inhabits. For one person to get across confidence and clarity and confusion and grief within one film and one character was amazing and Streep would be a worthy winner of the Best Actress Oscar.

Peter Cushing, Whitstable, the awesome Jennie Rigg, a plea for a geek, and a meme

The brilliant Ms Rigg has started novel way of doing a blog round up feature. Jennie is one of my favourite bloggers - I recently described her as "brimming with imagination, irreverence, the right amount of darkness and a tiny little sprinkling of evil in its purest form." I wonder if she'll consider that a quote

Part of her new "The Blood is the Life" feature incorporates a meme, with a self-tagging mechanism which I will repeat here. If you wish to take part, comment to this, include the words "Peter Cushing lives in Whitstable" in your comment and I will then ask you five questions which you must answer truthfully and then make a similar offer on your own blog. I was actually going to change the words, but when I understood where she'd got the phrase from, Ithought I'd keep it and share with you. It's very funny.

Anyway, here are the questions she asked me and their answers:

1, What made you get into Formula 1?

Hot, red, sexy Ferraris, especially driven by Jean Alesi who was so passionate and aggressive on the track. But generally, the scream of the engine, the skill of the drivers, who earn every single penny of their exorbitant salaries, the genius of watching the teams work together to find n extra tenth of a second. It's sexy and dramatic and amazing and I could go on about it forever but I won't.

I think what completely held my interest was the symbiotic relationship between lovely genius Ross and maybe not so lovely but absolutely compellingly brilliant Michael Schumacher. One built fabulous cars, the other took them to within a thousandth of a millimetre of destruction to achieve unprecedented success.

Oh, and if any geek has any idea why I can't get on to the Brawn GP website on my laptop, please help me. The creaky old wind up computer upstairs can get on it but it takes forever to crank up and I'd love to be able access it from here. It's very strange.

2, Describe your oldest cuddly toy.

It's a Yorkshire Terrier puppy that I saw in a shop in Waverly Market in Edinburgh in 1991 when we were in Scotland for 3 weeks looking after my teenage sister (who was going through one of her obnoxious phases) while my parents were off on a Caribbean Cruise to celebrate their Silver Wedding. I managed to resist it once, but when we were back in town the next week, I had to have it. It loved on my bed for years and now Anna has requisitioned it in the way children do. She's never been one for dolls - but we will soon have to get a bigger house to accommodate all her stuffed animals. Her daddy took her to the school fete a few weeks ago and I thought he might have shown some restraint - but he came back with five more. Honestly!

I adore Yorkies. Some evil people call them horrid names, like rats on strings, but these dogs may be small but they are full of personality. Our family's first one was called Lucy and she completely ruled the roost. She arrived in her house, the size of tuppence, after a very long journey back to Caithness and sat in front of my dad's chair and let out this very insistent, but tiny bark. From that moment, he was smittten with her.

Several years later, my folks were, shall we say, less than impressed when I jacked in university to go and live with a divorced man twice my age. Eventually, they agreed to meet him. Almost the minute we arrived in the house, Lucy came and sat on his knee which led to his acceptance into the family. Given that he might no longer be twice my age, but we've now been together for one week short of 22 years, I'd say the dog showed immaculate judgment.

A year after Lucy, Jamie came along - he was a very gentle dog in all matters apart from his libido, which was legendary. My sister used to dress him in her doll's clothes and push him around in her pram and he just let her. He spent his days being bullied mercilessly by Lucy, but he was a great big soppy loving bundle of fur.

3, What is your favourite radio show?

I thought this would be easy to answer - but when it came to it, there were a few nominations. Special mention has to be given to the BBC's F1 coverage on 5 Live. I love Anthony Davidson's informed and easy to listen to commentary. He describes things in a way that's easy to understand if, like me, you haven't got a degree in aerodynamics and engineering. In fact, I don't even have a Primary school understanding of these things. Then there's Women's Hour -I found out about Harry Potter on that programme, when they interviewed JK Rowling in the very early days. I've gone through phases of the Archers, too but I'm off them at the moment. Then if I'm feeling bloodthirsty, I can listen to Mr H take people apart on the Today programme, although in the mornings I will most often opt for the television, and the bee-keeping sex god that is Bill Turnbull on BBC Breakfast.

Any Questions is sometimes even better than Question Time and Jonathan is definitely less annoying than his brother.

I think it would have to be Just a Minute that takes it, though - it's so funny and a real test of humour and mental agility. It has never failed to make me laugh out loud. I'm listening to last week's on the iPlayer as I type this - it's one with Clement Freud, Peter Jones, Derek Nimmo and Paul Merton which I actually remember from laughing at it at the time and it's still hilarious. If you want to listen to it on iPlayer do so before the end of today.

4, What is your favourite sweet and why?

Does anyone remember the Bubbly? I wasn't allowed bubble gum, but my lovely Granny bought it for me anyway. We used to call into Freddie's on the corner of Innes Street in Inverness on the way home from town and she'd buy me one which I'd savour and make last as long as I could.

5, Why did you join the Lib Dems?

Watching Roots when I was 8 or 9 filled me with a huge sense of anger that human beings could so brutally enslave other human beings so my passion for equality started there. I might have been taken in by Mrs Thatcher in 1979, but it didn't take me long to realise that the Tories were (and still are, don't be fooled) only bothered about protecting the interests of the rich. I abhorred the Labour collectivist approach. This party is an ideal home for someone with a social conscience who respects that people are individuals and celebrates difference and diversity.

I'd like to be able to say that all that was my motivation for getting involved in the SDP in 1983 when I was 15. I'd been impressed with the fact that the Alliance wasn't either Labour or the Tories and went in to their Wick office to ask for a copy of their manifesto. I left with a bundle of leaflets and the rest is history.

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Government implodes as treacherous Blairites get their revenge

I guess what I'm going to say isn't going to be that popular, but, hey, when did I ever let that stop me? My sympathy is actually with Gordon Brown this morning.

Sure, the Government is on its last legs, as I've written before. That's not all Gordon Brown's fault - the Labour Party lost its way a long time ago, when it came into office and cut benefits to lone parents, when it launched an illegal war in Iraq and when allowed people to be detained for 6 weeks without charge.

I remember the last time Ministers and MPs turned on a sitting PM - Mrs Thatcher in 1990. At that time, I actually has a fair amount of sympathy with the likes of Ken Clarke, Michael Heseltine and Douglas Hurd who were watching an arrogant, out of touch and intransigent Thatcher press on with her isolationist stance in Europe and the unfair Poll Tax.

This time, I have absolutely no sympathy with the assassins. Let's face it, Gordon's card was marked the second he walked into Downing Street. The Blairites were always going to be out to get their revenge for the wars that raged between number 10 and number 11 when their guy was PM.

I think the way in which Blears and Purnell have left has been absolutely disgraceful. Blears, already tarnished by the expenses scandal which meant her jacket was on a shoogly peg anyway (why the hell didn't Gordon sack her weeks ago?)decides to quit the day before a major election. Then, Purnell gives his resignation letter to the papers in the middle of the afternoon on polling day, leading to all sorts of rumours and leaks before the polls closed. Bloody hell! It's bad enough that cabinet ministers can't put the needs of the country, gripped by Labour's recession, above their plotting, but it's unbelievable that they are willing to drive a stake through the heart of any electoral prospects they might have.

While I can see how the public might have thought that the idea of Heseltine as PM 19years ago might have been a bit of an oasis after a long period of drought, I can't imagine that anybody actually thinks that Purnell, or even the matey Alan Johnson, could do any better.

My prediction on 1st January was that there wouldn't be a General Election in 2009 but it's looking as if it's now almost inevitable as we the Government dissolves in a lethal cocktail of incompetence and treachery.

The people deserve better - look back to Nick Clegg's words at PMQs the other day: "The Governemnt doesn't get it. Labour is finished. We don't have a Government, we have a void." It's highly insulting to the people who are losing their jobs right, left and centre to have Ministers concentrating on fighting each other rather than dealing with the recession and looking long term as to how it's going to deal with the resulting debt we're in.

If the Labour administration was a sick animal, the only humane thing to do would be to take it on a one way trip to the vet. Watching its howls of pain as it goes through its death throes makes me uncomfortable as well as angry.

Yes, Gordon Brown is complex, notoriously difficult to work for and has lurched from one disaster to another, but he looks good compared to the treacherous ministers who can scarcely hide their glee as they wield their daggers.

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Our New Cabinet?

There's lots of talk of Cabinet reshuffles at the moment. To be honest, the ideas (like ID cards and surveillance) are just as bad as the people and unless some of them change, there's no point in going through the pain of sacking Ministers.

With Gordon's political judgment the way it is at the moment, we could be in for some interesting changes....

As Home Secretary?



Phil Woolas, the Parliament defying Home Office Minister responsible for the Gurkha legislation.

As Department of Work and Pensions Secretary?



Tom Harris MP to unite the Labour Party and sort out all those single teenage mothers. And it would give him less time to be on that pesky blog of his.

And as Secretary of State for Scotland, maybe he'll bring someone so affectionately regarded by the Scots out of retirement:



That would be one way to deal with Alex Salmond

You heard it here first:-)

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Thatcher Thirty Years On, Part 1. My Shame.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but thirty years ago tonight, I, a fairly innocent 11 year old, went to bed and prayed for Mrs Thatcher to win the 1979 election.

I really didn't understand much about politics then - the geekery and obsession didn't take hold until about a year and a half later, when I had had enough time to rue my earlier enthusiasm. I did know that I wasn't keen on Labour - there seemed to be nothing but strikes, and my dad hadn't had a properly stable job for a good couple of years. My parents and grandma were all enthusiastic Tories and it seemed that life would get better with a new Government.

I quite liked the Liberal Party. The MP for Inverness, Russell Johnston, seemed to me to be a good man and the fact that a primary school child like me knew who he was was quite positive. He was also in favour of home rule for Scotland, which I always thought was a good thing. However, my staunch Catholic grandfather had told me time and time again, from the moment he became Liberal leader, that David Steel didn't want babies to be born, so he had the same appeal for me as the Daleks. I literally would watch him on tv from behind a cushion. When I grew up and understood the issues involved, he became a lot less scary, but I actually thought he would pass a law forbidding people to have babies. Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous, but in my defence, I had heard that in China you were only allowed to have one child, and I was only 11.

To a young girl at that time, without knowing the details of what the parties were saying, it seemed very much that the Tories were the progressive lot, giving us the first woman Prime Minister - and surely, she would encourage other women to follow in her footsteps.

Maybe it was being so badly let down by Thatcher that made me so sceptical of Blair, or maybe it was just that I was old enough and wise enough not to be taken in by him, but I never, ever trusted him.

When Thatcher recited that St Francis of Assisi stuff on the steps of Number Ten, I really did believe that she was going to make the world a more liberal and compassionate place. I always wanted a liberal world, I guess, but my mistake was trusting the wrong person to deliver it.

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